Mirrors
by ApollodoraTheExplorer
Summary: In each chapter, one character takes a few minutes to talk about one of the others in turn. Nothing special, just a chance for you to get to know them all and see how they act as a group. If anyone wants to request a character to talk about another in the show feel free. No violence or sex, but a couple of swearwords here and there. A few insertions of head-canon, but not much...
1. Chapter 1 - 003 on 006

003 on 006

My parents raised me never to speak badly about anyone, or even to venture my opinion without being directly asked beforehand. My schoolteachers and sunday schoolteachers enforced it and most of the neighbours in my area expected it, and gossiped no end if I were to disobey it. It was just the way things were back then. It was a different time.

What I'm saying is that I'm just not _used_ to being completely honest about people. I'm used to just smiling and being polite and deferential, as I was expected to be as a child. I'm not even used to having my opinion asked in conversation, let alone having that opinion taken seriously and acted on. 40 years on, society has changed its mind about what I'm expected to do, say and be. Suffice to say, it has taken a lot of getting used to.

Chang seeks me out a lot of the time for my opinion when he cooks. He asks me if I'm partial to _Hēidòu jiàngyóu_ or if I think we should have our beef rare or well-done.

"Well, from what I've heard you French like your meat on the bloody side," he tells me. "And, while I'm the cook I'm going to make something we can all benefit from."

When he said that we were in a supermarket in London. He flitted between loudly despairing at the lack of available ingredients in British supermarkets (gaining him a dangerous glower from the young man behind the till) and becoming inspired by what actually was there. He just couldn't decide what to cook and in the end we bought enough ingredients to be able to feed all ten of us for three or four days. He dismissed Jet's comments about not having enough space in the fridge with a wave of his hand.

My mother would have called it "artistic temperament". She spent her free time in art galleries and normally managed to cajole my father and brother into joining me and her in our monthly trips to the theatre or the opera. To her, everything from broody fits of pique to manic fits of creativity were crucial to any artist and were the welcome price to pay for whatever works of genius would follow. I think my mother would have liked Chang, if she could get over the fact that he was foreign.

Of course, when I told Chang about the "artistic temperament" he just snorted. He explained shortly (but not impolitely) that a true artist would never have to wait for their creativity.

"Pah! 'No inspiration' is just a fancy way of saying 'I'm too lazy to create' or 'I'm too scared of criticism to do anything'! Any idiot can self-proclaim as an artist but in my book you've got to have something to show for it."

Not surprisingly, Chang is something of a volatile man. He's not very good at just sitting still and doing nothing. When he's not cooking he's cleaning the kitchen. When he's not cleaning the kitchen he's re-organising the shelves and when he's not re-organising the shelves he's probably on rota with the team, where he talks endlessly. I think he's taken it on as his mission to try and inspire the rest of the team with food, with somewhat mixed results. He picked up on the fact that I love Salmon Niçoise and Lemon Mousse for dessert and that G.B (much to Chang's chagrin) thinks that Macaroni Cheese is the single best food on the planet, but, for some of the others it's not so easy. Although I was on the other side of the building at the time, I couldn't help but overhear a certain conversation between Chang and Albert while they were both chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

"Come on, 004, you've **got** to have a favourite food."

"No, I really don't. I really, honestly don't mind one way or another."

"You can't expect me to believe that...! Everyone has a favourite food, period."

"Apparently not. When I was growing up, it was either eat what you're given or don't eat at all. Not much room for personal preference."

"Even so, you have to have had a favourite...!"

"Anything but boiled potatoes."

"What, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Can't stand them."

"And that's it?!"

"Hey, you asked."

"There's **got** to be more than that."

And so on. The entire conversation started just with a simple discussion about whether or to have rice or noodles with dinner and ended with a very bizarre discussion about the merits (or lack thereof) of boiled potatoes in a meal. I don't quite to know how to phrase it right without making it sound odd, but, the man is a chef through and through. He takes his work seriously.

That being said, there is more to him than just food. He's brave in the battlefield and is a surprisingly good listener. Once, just out of curiosity, I approached him in the living room of Mr Kosumi's apartment and asked him, in Chinese, if he was feeling homesick. Without even blinking, he replied to me in French, saying that currently he was enjoying being away from home, although doubtlessly at some point his feet would take him there again. We ended up sitting on the sofa, speaking together for over an hour over a pot of tea, talking about how Paris and Hangzhou look in the snow, the weather in Japan, the debatable merits of learning trigonometry in school when one plans to be either a ballerina or a chef after leaving and the handful of films we had both seen and could actually remember. (Cleo de 5 à 7, les tontons flingueurs, Harvey, Breakfast at Tiffany's... My father was a bit hooked on American films and said they were refreshingly frank compared to ours.) Chang also ended up recommending some films for me, both from China and the rest of the world. At some point I will actually get around to watching them too.

What really surprised me was how that particular conversation ended. After I made a few hollow but well-intentioned comments about having a lot to catch up on in the modern world, Chang's expression suddenly changed. He seemed to be caught somewhere between pity and affection but it was just such a sudden change. He took both my hands in his and spoke quietly.

"Don't be scared, 003," he said. "I can't even imagine how lost you feel sometimes, but, please, don't let it get to you. We're all here for you."

It was a nice gesture, without a doubt, but at the same time it did reveal a lot to me. I saw the man behind it all. The man who gets up at 3 in the morning on clear nights to watch the moon and who keeps a small notebook hidden under the mattress of his bunk, filled with half-finished poems in his neat, precise handwriting. He shows the same love and creative flair in every dish from scrambled eggs on toast to slow roasted duck with hand-pulled noodles. He pats me on the arm when I peel vegetables and attempts to make conversation with everyone over dinner, regardless of what has happened in the day. And yes, he makes a delicious Salmon Niçoise.


	2. Chapter 2 - 006 on 007

006 on 007

You take a man with a flair for drama. A vibrant man from London still young enough to be useful in a fight but yet old enough to get misty-eyed about the Old Days, who probably doesn't actually realise how lucky he has been in life. Someone more than comfortable in the spotlight who has never been encouraged to censor his opinions or his actions, and then you give him an actual superpower. You give him the power to be anyone he chooses and to look however he wants and you set him loose on the world. At one point Dr Gilmore tried to explain what exactly it was that made 007's transformations work and, if I'm completely honest, it made less than no sense. Something about nano-machines, maybe? Don't quote me on that. It doesn't really matter anyway; what I'm getting at is that the last thing 007 needed was another reason to show off. And show off he does, at great length.

He fancies himself to be a writer. At least five or six times, he had declared out loud that he's writing our tale into an epic drama and has cloistered himself in a corner with his laptop, supposedly writing it all down, although when I pass by and look over his should he always just seems to be playing freecell or surfing the web. He always has a speech ready. He favours wild, comical gestures and never bothers to reign in his emotions outside of a performance. He will attempt to shoe-horn a Shakespeare quote into any situation. He will tell anyone who will listen (and a fair few who won't) about his acting days in London and "the time I played King Lear at the Old Vic in '82. Standing ovations, 006, can you imagine? Oh, those were the days..." Yes, I know. I have heard a great deal about the Old Days, especially since 007 and I seem to end up working together more often than not. Then again, compared to most of the rest of the team, we do get on rather well. Maybe it's just because we're two middle-aged men with similar dramatic personalities who have neatly avoided the pitfalls of a midlife crisis by being unceremoniously hurled into a world of war, subterfuge and death. Sometimes I do honestly believe that our recognition of the unquestionable strangeness of our new situation is what keeps us as friends.

That being said, I can not and will not pretend that it isn't difficult at times. Thankfully, when danger threatens all nine of us manage to put our differences aside, but, sometimes as little as a minute after the threat has gone we all break apart again. Old arguments are picked back up, conflicting personalities clash and people bicker. I suppose that's why some of the group choose to live a continent away in peacetime. And yes, 007 and I bicker, a lot. More than one of the others has compared us to an old married couple, which I'm not all to pleased with. And no, it's not because 007 has told me he identifies as bisexual, before you go accusing me of bigotry. (He made a point of telling me that he was done with relationships in life, had only mentioned it because it came up on conversation and that at no point would he be flirting with teammates.) I just haven't really met any old married couples that actually bicker like this. More to the point, if I actually got paired with other teammates I'm sure I'd bicker with them just as much. (What can I say? It's just who I am.)

As a fighter, 007 is a bit lacking. I think his own particular abilities are better suited to sneaking and reconnaissance. Personally, I'm somewhere in the middle, given my strange mix of fire and digging. Maybe that's why we keep being put on the same tasks; we're both best suited to getting past enemy defences unseen. (And yes, 002 _would_ be excellent for recon jobs if he could ever suppress the urge to play the hero and rush head first into danger at the slightest provocation. I would put that down to the energy of youth, but, technically speaking 002 is older than I am...!) Needless to say, the potential in 007's powers is almost limitless. As far as I can tell, the only thing limiting his transformations is his own powers of imagination and visualisation. On the small handful of times I've been in the mood for having my ears talked off I've talked with 007 about our abilities. Some of it made sense, at least...

"You'd think that turning into a different animal would be the difficult part, right? Funnily enough, it's not. When I turn into an animal, I dunno, I guess instinct just takes over. But, if I was to turn into 005 right this second it would be a much more trying experience."

"How so?"

"As obvious as it sounds, the man is much taller than me. More muscly too. Trying to get all that extra mass to move smoothly is really fiddly. Plus, getting the hang of moving and acting the same way he does would take some effort too."

"Yeah, but, that's not really an _ability_ kind of thing, is it? That's not the same thing."

"It might not come from the same place, but it's certainly just as important. Think about it for a minute: if you saw 003 walking over to you acting and talking like 002 you'd think something was badly wrong. Sometimes, just that single extra second of cover can make a real difference...!"

"If you say so. Although, can you actually imagine 003 acting like 002?"

"Ha! Definitely not. I think she'd probably have a heart-attack at the thought of putting her feet up on the table...!"

"Shhhhhh! She can probably hear us right now...!"

OK, fine, at the very least we can share a joke. Not surprisingly, 007 has quit a sharp wit. That, combined with the kind of sarcasm only the British can really manage and the comic timing that only an actor can master has led to more than a few surprisingly funny moments. And I can at least count on him to eat when I put food on the table. Most of the others tend to ignore their dinners when they're unhappy, which is a lot. I'm not in this for the praise or anything, but, food is meant to be eaten, meant to be enjoyed. Like theatre, I guess.


	3. Chapter 3 - 007 on 004

007 on 004

Cyborg number: 004. Real name: Albert Heinrich. Black-Ghost-enforced-Codename: Shinigami/ Sensenmann/ Reaper. Date of birth: 11th November 1933. Date of death: 20th February 1964. Date of re-birth as a cyborg: 21st February 1964, at approximately five in the morning. Cyborg abilities: armed almost literally to the teeth. Eye colour: grey. Hair colour: blonde.

This much I know. This much I have been able to find out through casual conversation and observation. I like to think I'm good at reading people; it comes with the territory in acting. I can look at 002 and see a young man who dislikes feeling helpless. He hates to be treated like a child and considers anything except charging headfirst into conflict as a sign of weakness. I look at 005 and I see a man who looks at the whole world and sees a mirror, except he can't see his own reflection in it. Under his calm exterior, he's just as confused as the rest of us; the only difference is that he's not afraid of not knowing. I don't know what to make of 004.

What do you say to a man who isn't afraid of anything? No really, that wasn't a joke; I'm actually asking. As strange as it may seem, I am at a loss for words. The man is just unreadable. He doesn't talk much and is surprisingly frank when he does. He is perfectly cordial to those around him most of the time, broken only by occasional fits of temper in battle (and occasionally out of it). I'm still trying to figure out if he was being serious with me when he answered "touch screens" when I asked him what in the modern world he found hardest to get used to. (He was completely straight-faced when he answered, but...) And yes, I am a tiny bit nervous around him, mainly because he seems to have taken to this whole cyborg affair a little too well.

No, wait, sorry, that's not what I mean. I don't think he's inhuman. I just mean that he doesn't seem scared of the power he's been given and he doesn't seem to have any qualms about attacking those who would put the team in danger. When I asked him about them, he told me he'd never even held a gun before becoming a cyborg, nor had he had anything resembling combat training. See, you look at 008 and you can tell he's used to this. He's familiar with weapons and calm in a crisis. Compare that to someone like 003 (or yes, even to me) and you're completely at the other end of the spectrum. We hold those guns like they're going to explode in our faces at any second and we still hesitate before attacking, even when our lives are quite obviously in danger. 004, however, I would describe as an _amateur enthusiast._ He doesn't shy away from attacking our enemies or putting himself in harm's way. Compared to 008, he has no tactics, experience or style but he has more than enough enthusiasm to get him through. 009 and 002 are the same, but, not really on the same scale, if you get my meaning. With 004, I just keep wondering what it is that drives him to be so steady when death is screaming in his face. He just, I don't know, accepts it all. What is it that drives a man to become so reckless?

But of course, at the same time I'll bet my boots he isn't as adjusted as he acts. I may not be a mind reader (and no, 001, if you can hear this, it isn't an invitation to prove me wrong) but I can at least pick up on some hints when someone isn't all together.

Let me set the scene first, if you'll humour me. We had barely been out of Black Ghost's clutches for a day when we arrived in Japan. After three solid days of fighting for our lives and flying across the world, we were all pretty much on the brink of complete physical and emotional exhaustion. We arrived at Mr Kosumi's house a little before 3AM local time, barely able to think straight, let alone fight for our lives. We were all very much aware that coming to this place was a huge gamble and that there was at least some chance that our enemy would already be there, ready and waiting for us, but, at that point we wouldn't have been able to do much about it anyway. Thankfully, it was just the old man in the house. After letting us in, Kosumi was either polite or tired enough not to ask us what was going on. He just pointed to a western style living room and told us all to try and get some sleep for the time being. (His house is actually impressively big. We would all later get our own bedrooms but at that point every spare room in the building was full of junk and none of us could be bothered tidying.) The conversation about who would sleep where was mercifully brief. 003 and 001, being the only woman and baby present, would get the armchair to share. 002 and 008 would share two-seater sofa and 006 and I would share the three-seater. 009, 005 and 004 each picked an area of floor to sleep on and within ten minutes we were all out for the count.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who woke up during that first night. Even the smallest noises disturbed my sleep. Every rolling wave in the sea became the roaring of an engine, full of soldiers. Every seagull cry was an alarm, wailing into the night. You get the idea. I ended up leaving the makeshift dormitory for a glass of water. On my way through, I got a look at the others as they slept. 004 was not sleeping well. He kept moving in his sleep, his face changing. I know that kind if sleep. It is the sleep of a person who has gotten used to being next to someone else at night. Instinctively, you end up noticing the other person's presence in your sleep and you don't rest right without them beside you. I went through it when Sophie left me. Who was he missing? Of course he hasn't spoken about it and I'm not brave enough to just ask out of nowhere.

Putting all this into words is a bit of a tricky process, you know. As a group, we are bound together by necessity, made brothers by circumstance. When danger threatens, we work as a single unit, protecting each others' backs, saving the world... But, you take the danger away, we lose all that. We revert to what we really are: a group of ordinary civilians. Lost, frightened, mutilated and so far out of our depth that we can't even see the shore anymore. We argue, we make mistakes, we keep one another at arm's length. Some of us even disappear off to other continents. 004 vanishes off to Germany when the fight ends, spends his free time in a tiny one-bed apartment in Berlin and works part time for a dingy delivery company, surrounded by men half his age at least. He could be living it up with us in Japan, eating fine cuisine every day and enjoying the relative calm that we share in peacetime. Some people are naturally loners, I suppose.

All I can think about is how he manages to get past airport security. I mean, the man is almost entirely made of metal, right? And I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a passport anymore either. Or a driving licence? How does he do anything? I guess some folk are just a whole lot more resourceful and/or willing to risk trouble to get what they want. I should really try to think outside the box more often...

But that's it, isn't it? Some people _can_ just take risks, and others can't. I thought I was living dangerously at the age of 17 when I smoked pot in a friend's house while his parents were out at a concert. But yet, here I am, a cyborg soldier, able to defy the laws of biology, mechanics and biomechanics. We all have our hidden depths. In time, we will all learn more about one another. As the bard himself once wrote "let every eye negotiate for itself"...


	4. Chapter 4 - 004 on 009

004 on 009

I don't like second-guessing people. I try not to make assumptions without any grounding and I loathe all forms of gossip. So, you'll forgive me if I don't spend too long trying to psychoanalyse my teammate.

It's something in the posture, I think, or maybe just a ghost of an expression. I know it well enough, if only because I've been there myself, or at least something similar. Either way, it's clear to see: 009 is not used to trusting people, or to having other people trust him. The first time 006 thanked him for helping to prepare dinner, he looked genuinely surprised. When he was offered the chance to pilot The Dolphin for the first time he looked as though he could barely believe what he was hearing. It took him days at first to pluck up the courage to start venturing his opinion and days more to stop flinching when someone asked him a question. I suppose that's what happens when you live your life as an outsider...

The first time I met 009 was in the middle of our initial escape from Black Ghost. He'd only been awake for about three hours and between waking up and finding us he'd had to fight his way through a small army's worth of soldiers, tanks, planes and God knows what else. He had this wild look in his eyes and he could barely string three words together at a time. We all got it in our first fights; that sudden exhaustion after the initial panic of the situation fades and before the adrenaline kicks in. You suddenly find yourself alone, your ears still ringing from the gunfire and your heart still trying to beat its way out of your chest and your body just decides to completely quit on you. And yes, after a fifteen minute scientific sermon from Dr Gilmore on how advanced 009 was going to be and how he had enough power to destroy the rest of us ten times over, I was expecting a lot. He was given the best of all of the rest of us, without any of the flaws and limitations.

What I saw when 009 arrived was a confused, shell-shocked teenager, if not an actual child; a rabbit caught in the headlights. He was in way past his depth and probably the only thing keeping him from completely losing his sanity was the promise of answers in the future. He barely made it through our escape in one piece and in the days that followed he seemed to be barely holding it together most of the time. I wouldn't normally admit to this, but, I was worried about him. There were times when I genuinely thought he was going to properly break from the stress.

But, since then, I've got to say, I have changed my mind. Whatever it was that was holding 009 back in those first few chaotic weeks is now where it belongs: in the past. As time's gone by, he's come into his own and risen to meet the challenges that life (by which I mean Black Ghost) has thrown at him, becoming stronger and braver with every obstacle he's overcome.

Although the first time we met was that day on the testing grounds in Black Ghost complex, the first time we really had any kind of a significant conversation was weeks later, when 0011 attacked. Most of team was already out of commission thanks to poison and those of us that were healthy (009, 003, 002 and me) were working triple shifts on night watch, hoping against hope that our attacker wouldn't come back before the others had recovered. After a rather heated argument with 002 about the outcome of the first battle against 0011, I offered to swap shifts with 003 so that she could get a few more hours sleep and I wouldn't have to spend eight hours wandering the area around Kosumi's house with 002 and his snide comments. (And no, I didn't mention the latter reason to 003, but I think she figured out anyway. There's no way she didn't hear the argument. All the same, she agreed anyway and all I had to endure was her raising her eyebrows at me as I left the room.)

Anyway, as 009 and I wandered the area, we got to talking. We didn't talk about ourselves or our pasts; we just talked about the only thing we had in common. It was something of a relief to know that I wasn't the only one feeling pretty shaken up by the battle against the 0010 brothers the week beforehand. Without either of us steering the conversation or hinting at anything, we ended up having quite a deep discussion about morality and mercy.

"Just six months ago I wouldn't have cared," he said. "I would have just let the both of them die without a second thought and I would have been able to convince myself that they deserved it too."

"That's how monsters are born. We look at the things that frighten us and we imagine them to be even worse. We convince ourselves that they aren't human and that it's OK not to treat them like humans."

"No doubt our enemies are doing the same thing to us right now. Every soldier that points a gun at us doesn't believe we're human anymore and probably won't hesitate to try and destroy us for good. Because we don't want to kill we're always going to be at a disadvantage and they know it."

"Of course... But I don't think I would be able to do things any differently now..."

That talk could have gone on for days if we hadn't been interrupted after that. In that discussion, I learned a lot more about who 009 was and what he was struggling with. It gave me a new respect for him and the choices he has made since becoming a cyborg.

For you see, on the day we met and escaped as a team, 009 was given a choice by the Black Ghost scientists. They told him that he had enough power to destroy the other eight of us and offered him unimaginable power in exchange for stopping the escape. As much as it saddens me to admit it now, I did wonder at the time whether or not he would do it. The only thing we had to offer him was a small chance of freedom, but only at the cost of more pain and fear. Moreover, we were all strangers at that point and owed one another nothing. I pray that it remains as a secret to me (and 001, who doubtlessly saw my thoughts at the time) that I was preparing my gun to shoot 009 down where he stood in case he decided to betray us all. I've seen how people change when they are given power over others. I've seen some putting their faith in others, only to be betrayed at the mere hint of a reward. Quite a few people from my past would have sold all of us out to Black Ghost were they in 009's position or would have shot him down were they in mine.

You know the rest. 009 decided to put his trust in us and join the escape and I ended up having a few restless nights, worrying at how easily I coerced myself into thinking that shooting 009 was the best option. (If she had seen it all, I don't think Hilda would have been impressed with me. I'm certain that if she had been in my place she would have stood next to 003, offering a hand to him and asking him to trust us.)

And yes, I'm glad that 009 proved himself to be the better man. Although he is just as new to this life as the rest of us (apart from 008), 009 has thrown himself into it with all his strength. He has shown himself to be selfless and brave to a fault. He has tried to reason with every agent Black Ghost has thrown at us and has consequently taken more damage than any of the rest of us. And, although I'd never actually say this to anyone else, his abilities are incredible, maybe even a little scary at times. In spite of such incredible power, he remains down to earth and kind-hearted. It's probably for the best that I don't have that kind of power.


	5. Chapter 5 - 009 on 002

009 on 002

"Yeah, I saw this magazine when I was a kid. It was this in-depth analysis of what people thought the world was going to look like in the year 2000."

We're sitting at the control centre of the _Dolphin_ , waiting for an attack that will not happen for another week. Night watch is everyone's least favourite chore; 12 hours of usually unbroken nothingness, with at least a slim chance that Black Ghost could attack. Any conversation is welcome to try and break the tedium.

"What kind of stuff was in it?"

"Usual: flying cars, floating cities in the sky, robot chauffeurs, trains that take you from Chicago to London in ten seconds, the _great age of enlightenment_..."

"Sounds optimistic, at least, right?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

"How does it compare?"

"Dunno. I never really thought much about the future back in the day. Most of the time, I was just thinking 'Hmmm, should I hang out in an alleyway today or should I try and swipe a beer from the corner store?'."

He pauses, putting his feet up on the control console.

"If I had cared to think of it," he continues. "I would have imagined something of a more _smug_ future, if you get what I mean. Like, when people usually think they're enlightened it normally means they've thought about the meaning of life for ten minutes and somehow that just automatically makes them better than everyone else. They use big words to make themselves sound smart and laugh behind their hands when everyone else doesn't understand what the hell they're talking about. I hear the words 'age of enlightenment', I just picture a bunch of flakes in white robes sitting around all day, eatin' _cuisine_ , talking about opera and laughing at that one time one of them mistook Monet for Manet. They order their robot butler to clean their flying cars and remember to forget that they are all actually completely useless and their whole lives have been wasted..."

He pauses again, seemingly lost in thought.

"From where I'm sitting, the future's fine. Flying cars are dumb, robots are useless and enlightenment is just a flake word for 'smug'. I'm pretty glad people aren't all jackasses in this time. You guys at least are pretty cool."

"What, really?"

"Sure, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't have picked most of the team to save the world with if I'd had a choice, but, you know, they wouldn't have been my _last_ choice either... Well, except you. I'd be cool with you if I had a choice."

"What, really?"

"Yeah, sure. I mean, you can be a total dork sometimes, but, most of the time you're OK."

That was probably the deepest conversation I've ever had with 002. He's not a fan of sharing his feelings, apart from when he's annoyed at someone. He backs away when people get too close and unleashes a torrent of sarcasm when provoked, especially with the older members of the team. With 003 he is cordial enough, and with me he can even be friendly once in a while. I think it's just in his nature to mistrust anyone who could possibly have a slim chance of being mistaken for an authority figure. It's worst with Dr Gilmore. 002 very rarely censures his thoughts against the Doctor, especially if he think's he's being lectured to. And unfortunately enough, 002's love of danger and refusal to take orders does cause a lot of friction with the others. But in spite of it all, he's about as brave and loyal a comrade as I could ever hope for, so long as he gets to do things his way.

If you want to be technical, I'm the youngest member of the team. I was eighteen years old when Black Ghost caught me and I haven't really aged since then. Although 001 only looks like a baby he's technically 40-something and 002 is nearing sixty. It's really easy to forget most of the time though, considering how energetic he normally is and how everyone else acts around him. But then, reality comes back into effect and I hear him talking to 003 about where they both were during the Cuban Missile Crisis (school and ducking out of school), what their parents both did in the Second World War (fought Nazis in Guadalcanal and tried to avoid the ire of the Vichy government) and what they each find strangest about the new millennium (modern fashion and the price of a can of soda).

That being said, for the most part 002 has taken to modern life really well. Once he knows what something is or what a certain phrase means, he just accepts it and moves on. The only real exception was when he watched a movie for the first time. Probably the best thing would have been for him to be slowly introduced to modern movies, moving forward a few decades with each watching. Sadly, we never got around to that because he beat us to it.

To put it in context, the last movie 002 watched before being taken by Black Ghost was _Mary Poppins_. I've never seen it myself but I've seen pictures of what the effects are like and I know a bit of a couple of the songs, like most folk probably do. When 002 couldn't sleep one night, he flipped on the TV in Mr Kosumi's house and caught the remake of _War of the Worlds_. The end result was the rest of us all being suddenly awoken at three in the morning by 002's extremely loud yelling and swearing. The effects and filmmaking were unlike anything he had ever experienced before and for about two hours afterwards 007 took the time to explain about things like CGI and modern cinema. Once it had been confirmed and double-confirmed that no, it wasn't real and that yes, all the aliens were just made on a computer, 002 calmed down. Now, he's a total movie addict and has fervently declared that all cinema made before 1998 isn't worth the paper the tickets are printed on. His favourite movie is _Iron Man_ and he has told me about eight or nine times that he could totally take Tony Stark on in a fight, armour or no armour.

And of course, now that he's seen this many modern movies (and superhero movies in particular), 002 has taken to going out for long flights alone, just for the sheer joy of flight. He's flown from New York to Saitama a few times over the past few months, arriving bright eyed and overjoyed at unsociable hours in the morning. He races jet planes in stealth mode and challenges himself to see how extreme he can get his aerial acrobatics to get before he actually breaks. When the whole team is gathered together, he brags about all the places he's gone on his travels (Machu Piccu, Uluru, The South Pole, to name but a few) and I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels a tiny bit jealous.

From what I can tell though, 002's real plan is to try and fly all the way up out of the atmosphere and into space. He was pretty torn up about missing the Moon Landing in '69 and ever since Dr Gilmore mentioned that it was within his power to do so, Jet's been pretty much dead set on trying it. That being saidm within about five minutes of hearing 002's plan, Dr Gilmore explained that although it was physically possible for 002 to fly _out_ of the atmosphere, he wouldn't have the power or fuel reserves to get back _in_. So, for the time being, with his Big Plan on the shelf, 002 has turned sullen once again. I wouldn't completely rule out the possibility of him trying it anyway, but, at the same time I think even he isn't so reckless as to put his life in that much danger without a good reason.

So, I guess, what I'm saying is, that 002 is a pretty cool guy. He's more confident and outgoing than I could ever be and still a blindly loyal member of the team, regardless of what he says. He's a reckless daredevil, a sullen teenager and a true friend. His favourite movie is _Iron Man_ , his favourite band is ACDC (a recent discovery), his favourite place is Mount Cook in New Zealand and his full name is actually James Anthony Link Jnr. He chose the name Jet for himself in middle school when he "realised how much it would _suck_ to be another Jimmy Link", like his father. I'm sworn to secrecy about his real name and that's how it's going to stay.


	6. Chapter 6 - 002 on 005

002 on 005

Wait, who? 005? Yeah, I don't know if he likes me or not. He's never really said anything particularly weird or even been any different with me than with any of the others, but, I dunno, it's just _weird._ Not that he's weird but more like just everything he says is weird and whenever we're in a room together it feels weird. Weird and awkward. Like, we're both Americans, but, we have completely different experiences. For all we've done similar stuff and been similar places, we may as well be from different planets. The New York I knew in 1964 isn't the New York he knew in 2001, and even if we _were_ from the same time I don't think we'd have the same memories of the place. I dunno, some people look at a river, they think "wow, what a beautiful source of nature" and the rest think "damn, I'm going to get my feet wet".

And yeah, we've had a couple of conversations about the half-dozen places we actually have in common, but, it was kinda weird. For him, the Empire State Building was "so full of people, but so lonely" but for me it was all "I'm so gonna spit over the edge". The only thing we agreed on was that Central Park is lame. None of out little chats ever lasted more than a couple of minutes, though. He's not much of a talker; tends to keep to himself. Sits alone most of the time and tends to use as few words as possible. I kind of actually want to get him drunk, just to see if he's the kind who'd turn into a total blabbermouth when he drinks. (Mind you, I want to see everyone in the team drunk, so, that's not really saying much. Actually, can we even _get_ drunk?)

I think the real thing is that I just don't like silence. Life is fast and life is loud and I really don't understand quiet people. Plus, with all the weird, unbelievable Black Ghost crap we've gone through you'd think we'd never stop talking about it all, right? We're all we've got; it's not like we can really talk about it to anyone else. And yeah, to me at leasts it feels a bit easier. I'd rather say "Hey man, thanks for literally punching that artillery shell out of the air and saving me from being blown halfway to New Zealand in an explosion" than "Hey man, sorry your culture got crushed into oblivion." Call me a coward if you like, I don't care. I don't want to go there, not yet.

He hasn't brought it up either. I don't know if he's just being nice, if he doesn't care or if that's just him being his usual self. I'm not going to push anything. Best to let sleeping giants lie.

And he _is_ a giant. The guy has got to be over the seven foot mark. I always thought I was tall, but, next to him, I got nothing. It was pretty funny in Japan; me and him, walking down the street. _Everyone_ stared and it was hilarious; you don't get more _gaijin_ than us. Then, just for kicks I would speak to everyone around us in flawless Japanese.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Point is, the guy is massive. But, the biggest, stupidest mistake you could make is to think that he's a _gentle_ giant. I mean, yeah, he's all quiet and all in the house, but, put that guy in the middle of a fight and he turns into this goddam superman or something. Like, a while back we were up against some lower Black Ghost lackeys and one of them had the bright idea to try and hit 005 with a tank. Not a great plan. The tank speeds towards him, sixty or seventy miles an hour and 005 just turns around, holds out one hand and stops the whole thing dead, cool as anything. The tank flips over a couple of times and then 005 picks it up and just hurls it right back at them, hitting another tank and causing both to explode. It was pretty much the single coolest thing I have ever seen in my life. And then he just moves on. Not a word, not a reaction. Nothing. That bugs me. I mean, how can you do something that cool and not make the most of it? You don't have to toss off a James Bond one-liner or anything ( _should have worn a seatbelt...!_ ) but at least enjoy it. When I do something that cool I can't stop thinking about it for days on end. I mean, there was this one time, back in in Japan, when we were all fighting 0010: I flew up to 0010 at full speed, snapped into acceleration mode, kicked the shit out of him and flew off before the bastard could even figure out what had hit him. It was seriously cool and I couldn't stop thinking about it for days afterwards. 005 just doesn't seem to care. And woah, I just got it. Nothing stops 005. Bullets bounce off him and nothing phases him. Deep stuff, man.

And, yeah, I don't know how to explain it. The guy _knows_ stuff. Stuff he couldn't possibly have found out. Like, this one time after I got into an argument with 004, I was in a foul mood. I was annoyed at everyone for taking his side. After hearing me complaining, 005, with no provocation, just said:

"He used to be like you, when he was your age. He made a lot of mistakes as a teenager."

Seriously, what do you say to that? Was that supposed to make me understand anything any better? I mean, did 005 say anything to 004 that day too? (You know, something like "Don't be a jerk, man; he's not going to turn out like you did. He's smarter than that.")

Also, he's always the first to know when 001's awake. And he can predict the weather, sort of. I mean, he can usually guess if it's going to rain in a day but not much more. He also has this habit of making the rest of us look bad by being the first to volunteer to help with, well, everything. Cooking, cleaning, mechanic stuff, night rota, holding 001... (What? I ain't a servant. I'm not gonna let everyone take advantage of me just to make myself look better in front of them. And I don't know how to cook anyway, or wash dishes, or fix things. Anyway, everyone else seems to do OK on their own anyway. 006 is a chef; let him cook. 003 can see everything; let her be on lookout. 007 is British; let him make tea and talk everyone's ears off. 005 is a do-gooder; let him do good. I do more than my fair share out in the battlefield anyway, which more than makes up for it.)

Anyway, to sum it all up, I don't get the guy. I got nothing against him and there's probably no-one else I'd want guarding my back in a fight, but... If we could just share a beer or something and really just have a conversation I think we could get on OK, but, so far it's just awkward.


	7. Chapter 7 - 005 on 008

005 on 008

With a little encouragement, 008 tells excellent stories. It should go without saying, but, he has led a very eventful life and more than once he's been able to have every person on the room completely enthralled as he narrates. Over dinner a few weeks ago he told the story of his former comrade Mamado and one particular fight in a rainstorm against some government troops that the two of them had barely escaped from. Listening to him, I could almost hear the thunder booming through the sky, feel the torrents of rain and smell the cordite in the air. The way he told it, it sounded like nothing but an adventure. He had everyone in the room on the edge of their seats, in rapt silence. Such was his talent with words that he barely needed to raise his voice above a whisper but yet we were all hooked. That being said, it was plain enough to see that by the end of the story he wasn't as happy as he was showing himself to be. He confided in me later that night, saying that he had lost contact with Mamado months before being taken by Black Ghost. In all likelihood, his friend was long dead and the rest of his rebel comrades were likely not faring much better back at home.

"Well, it's not like we were getting into that fight to win..." He said.

It was the middle of the night when we had that conversation. I found him in the living room on my way out of the house for a walk. The moon was bright in the sky and the tide was low. Through the window of Mr Kosumi's living room, a million silver stars shimmered above a calm sea. At any other time, a view like that would have filled me with a deep calm and awe, but, somewhere inside a part of me couldn't forget the fact that out there, across those waters, people were plotting against us. Powerful, unrelenting people with eyes and ears everywhere, both human and mechanical. I felt their unyielding gaze in every CCTV camera that I passed, ever watchful and ready to pounce at a moment's notice. It kept me restless at night and paranoid in the day. (Of course, compared to what 003 sees and hears in a day I can imagine my paranoia is all but inconsequential. All the same, I've gotten this far by relying on instinct...) No doubt 008 was going through something similar.

"So what _do_ you get into it for?" I asked.

I didn't get an answer. At that moment, 006 joined us. (It seems we're hardly the only two who can't resist the beauty of a clear night, although personally I enjoy it much more actually out of the house. Some nights I walk for hours on end and find dawn has come before sleep.) Before 006 had a chance to say anything 008 was already on his feet. He muttered something about going out for a swim and was out of the house in seconds. After a brief conciliatory conversation with 006 I was out the door myself but couldn't find 008. I got the impression he wanted to be alone anyway. The next day he was back to his usual self and I didn't get a chance to speak to him properly for a few days after that, thanks mainly to 0011's timely intervention.

When we did get a minute it was night again. I found 008 down in the main control room of the _Dolphin_ , reading up on emergency landings in the flight manual. Although he was fine with flying the plane, he explained, he wasn't completely confident in emergency landings and had been meaning to read up on it all for weeks.

"It's the little things that always end up tripping you," he said. "I've seen soldiers practice shooting for months on end and then die of septicaemia because no-one bothered to learn how to properly clean a wound..."

Oddly enough, he laughed then.

"Although, I don't think any normal disease is going to be a problem for us, or even a plane crash for that matter..."

"But it's not us you're worried about. It's the doctor."

The smile on his face was little more than a grimace.

"Even if he wasn't the only person both able and willing to fix us all, he's still a seventy year old man who angered the wrong people, as well as being the least able to defend himself. No matter how you look at it, we really can't afford to lose him. Without Dr Gilmore, I don't even think we'd last a month. I just really hope Black Ghost wants him back as badly as they want us or eventually they'll decide to remove him from the equation..."

A minute or two passed in silence. 008 put the manual down and stretched before standing up.

"It's belief that keeps us going," he said. "When you asked before, that's what I was going to say. When I joined the rebellion, I knew the odds were against us from the beginning. But, the end we were fighting for would be worth any amount of trouble. Even if it didn't amount to much in the end there, it's at least a good help now. What's one more unachievable goal in the grand scale of things, right?"

At that point, I could scarcely believe he was younger than me. The look in his eyes was that of a much older man, shadowed by cynicism but not yet ruined by it. Capable of seeing both the very best and the very worst in any situation in turn.

Unlike the rest of us, 008 didn't need time to get used to this situation. Once he knew who could be trusted not to shoot him in the back he simply continued onwards. More to the point, it doesn't all seem to bother him in the same way it bothers some of the rest of us. He manages to remain upbeat and energetic in the face of danger and rises with the sun every day, even if there's nothing to be done. He talks to me about his home town, about his mother, step-father and sisters. Twin girls, who by now will be thirteen years old, but he hasn't seen them in nearly four years. Best not to bring the fight to them, you see. It was true when he was in the resistance and it's even truer now that Black Ghost is after us all, he tells me. He asks me about my family and where I grew up and doesn't push when I tell him I'm not ready to talk about them.

"Do you see me as a soldier...?" I find myself asking, barely registering the words I say as they come from me.

His brow creases. For a moment, he just sits still, seemingly lost in thought.

"No," he says, at long last. "You don't strike me as the type. Only thing is, you don't strike me as a normal civilian either. I hope this isn't too forward, but, you strike me as the type who hasn't been home in a long time."

I nod.

"It does tend to wear away at you after a while," he continues. "Just being so far from your family all the time."

Oddly enough, he smiles again.

"That is one good thing about us all. We're all lost together. And right now, I'd rather stay lost."

A sentiment I share. That is one thing the two of us seem to know. While we're lost, we can be free, in one form or another. Better to leave quietly in the night and whisper goodbyes to your family from the front door, love them from arms's length and know that distance is the only thing you can give them.

But the team is different, though. Despite his determination to stay away from home, 008 seems equally determined to stick with the other cyborgs. It could just be a desire to keep them safe and help them through the storm, but, I think there's more than that. Family isn't just the people who share your blood.


	8. Chapter 8 - 008 on 003

008 on 003

A young girl, barely out of school. An old woman, lost decades into the future. A cyborg, augmented with advanced technology. A soldier, thrown into a war she did not start. A fugitive, seeing her pursuers in every shadow. An experiment, doomed to failure. A dancer, shining with grace and elegance. A sister, still pining for the older brother she can never see again and coping with the eight new brothers who do not share a single drop of blood with her. A daughter, of a country that limped its way to victory through two world wars. A princess, born into the safe, polite world of upper-middle class Parisian society. A victim, of kidnap, imprisonment and illegal human experimentation. A warrior, who found her feet when crisis threatened. A gentle soul, never too busy to help her new family. A silver-tongued rebel, always ready to put others in their place when the situation calls for it.

003 is all of these things; sometimes all at the same time. Except, she seriously dislikes her number. She asks us all to call her Françoise and makes the effort to use our first names in conversation. She is so polite too; no doubt a relic of her childhood, so deeply ingrained in her that she doesn't even notice herself doing it. Not that she's submissive though, oh no. If anything, her adherence to good manners has given her a rather fierce temper, regardless of who her target might be.

After leaving Japan, our little family found itself under a rather zealous string of attacks from Black Ghost, including everything from high-tech espionage to good old-fashioned bombings of our ship. We were forced to remain on the run for a period of about four or five consecutive months, by land, by air and by sea. Life aboard the _Dolphin_ varied between structured coordination between us all and a ten-person exercise in madness, sometimes changing by the minute. It's what happens when you put that many people in a life-or-death situation against their will and then put them all in an enclosed space for anything up to a month at a time. I mean, it was bad enough in Mr Kosumi's house, when we were all able to leave and have rooms to ourselves, but, once we were all packed into the _Dolphin,_ underwater and under pressure, all sleeping between three rooms and constantly on call. We ate, slept, piloted, fixed and cooked on rotas, seeing one another only through work. The air was thick and warm, the sound of the engines was constantly droning in the background and any conversations that came up were brief and tense. Arguments were frequent. Although some of us we more prone to bickering (002, 006), the rest of us all had our times to lose control. I feel really bad telling this story, especially since 003 can probably hear me telling it, but, I think you need to know it in order to understand.

It was around the eighth or ninth week, around the start of February and everywhere outside the ship was frozen solid. Most of Europe was covered in snow and, no surprise, none of us was feeling particularly enthusiastic. One morning found Françoise and me in the engine room, trying to figure out if there was anything obviously wrong with the water filtration system. With her X-Ray vision, she had proven to be an irreplaceable help in fixing the engines and my hope had been to get the systems fixed on board, without a potentially dangerous trip to dry land. But, even without our joint efforts nothing was obviously wrong and with every minute that passed we were both getting short tempered. Moreover, it was plain to see that she had her mind on other things, based on how often she was glancing off in other directions. Not wanting to push anything, I was about to call it quits for the morning when she rather beat me to it. After a final glance over to her left, she sighed, slammed her hands on the wall, stood up, dusted her clothes off, muttered "excuse me" and stormed out of the room. Before I could take the time to process what had just happened, the sound of a scuffle out in the main corridor reached my ears. By the time I reached the source of the sound, most of the rest of the team had already gathered. At the centre of the little cluster, 003 had 007 pinned to a wall and had seemingly been giving him a rather vicious piece of her mind. Before the two were pulled apart, I caught the end of her tirade.

"... and believe it or not, I can still hear you! There's nowhere on this _pisse-puant_ rust-bucket of a ship where I DON'T hear everything! I wouldn't even need to to be able to hear you! I _**know**_ you're sick of being down here! We all are! I have heard nothing but complaints coming out of your mouth for a week straight and I am sick to death of..."

It probably would have gone on, had 009 and 004 not gotten in the way. 003 avoided the team for the rest of the day and any attempts at conversation ended in seconds.

It was only two days later, when she consented to sit in the kitchen with 004, 009, 005 and me that we got the rest of the story. In a slightly too-measured voice, 003 explained that in actual fact, she had been mulling over her actions for days before actually doing anything. 007 – she said – had been getting on her nerves for a week before then and she had been wanting to put him in his place from that start. However, she had also been keeping her eye on another submarine that was in the same waters as us. It wasn't immediately obvious as being a Black Ghost vessel, but neither was it one that we could immediately trust. Too much commotion aboard the ship would alert the other sub to our presence, potentially putting us all in danger. So, with much chagrin, she waited, and waited, and waited further, keeping an eye and ear out for the other sub at all times. She kept going with her daily routine, mindful all the while, and waited for the danger to pass. When at long last it slipped out of her range of sight she wasted no time in racing from the engine room.

That, in a nutshell, is Françoise. All-seeing, but also very much all-aware. She balances a warm heart with a will of steel but never forgets the mission at hand.

But, I won't pretend this all hasn't been that little bit more difficult for her than it has for everyone else. I was only exaggerating a little when I said that she was a princess in her old life. From the bits I've been able to glean from her in conversation, her family was pretty well-off and they loved her dearly, in a strange sort of way. They could afford to send her and her brother to good schools and take vacations each year in the Côte d'azur. Françoise's parents shelled out the cash for her ballet career and all they asked in return was her unwavering love and obedience, as well as a share in the limelight. By today's standards, her parents seem quite strict and closed-minded but for their time it was pretty normal. There was genuine sadness in Françoise's voice when she was talking about how her family used to be.

"I think mother would honestly have a fit if she saw who I was spending my time with these days. She had a bit of an _issue_ with foreigners, especially after the Algerian War."

We were in the kitchen together, with a mountain of potatoes and carrots to peel for what would later be a chicken curry. We had already washed and chopped a stack of other vegetables and in that time I had already talked at great length about my own home and family. At first, Françoise had just stuck to small details about Paris, like her favourite bakery just next to the Parc Monceau where she and her friends would meet for lunch after dance rehearsals, but as the minutes dragged on she went in to greater and greater detail. I learned about her brother, Jean-Michel, and how much her mother had adored her when she was younger.

"Looking back, she wasn't actually that great of a person. She was impatient, shallow and spoiled and if I had stayed at home for the rest of my life I probably would have ended up just like her: housewife, rich husband, a couple of kids of my own, no real purpose in life other than to stare at paintings all day and judge people I'd never meet..."

She sighed then; the long, worn-down sigh that only a soldier knows. She pressed her hands to her eyes, in an attempt to block the world out for a moment.

"She's probably dead now, though. She and papa, and maybe even Jean-Michel. As strong as my brother was, he could never could stay out of a fight; kind of like you, Pyunma... I think you would like him; he's a soldier too, even if he's not the smartest man around."

"Is it worth trying to find him? Maybe when this is all over..."

"No. When Jet, Albert and I all awoke in this time we discussed it as a three. We spent a whole night talking together about what had happened, airing grievances and coming to terms with it all. We agreed it would be best not to try and find our families for the time being. It would put them in danger, if nothing else. Besides, if he's alive my Jean-Michel's an old man now; I don't think there's any space left for me in his life. I wouldn't want to upset things..."

We talked for hours, even after the shift was over. I kind of got the feeling by the end that 002 and 004 aren't the best people to talk to, even if they share the most life experience with 003. Of the nine of us, Françoise is probably the only one who misses her old life. It makes it all the more impressive to see her dedication in the fight against Black Ghost when I think about it. In her own way, she is indomitable.


	9. Chapter 9 - 001 on Dr Gilmore

001 on Gilmore

A mind is a complicated thing. It is not a book to be read at one's leisure or even a room to be walked through. I would compare it more to a snow globe, in which each and every grain of fake snow is another thought, always moving and changing with the slightest disturbance. Unlike the snow globe, the mind is always moving, even in sleep, even in nothingness. I woke up three hours before 002, 003 and 004 when they pulled us from Cold Sleep. I felt their minds from across the room as they slept. Even in the depths of their chemically-induced comas, they dreamed. Small, quiet, whispering dreams that they forgot on waking and could only reclaim with my help.

I try not to interfere though. As powerful as I am, I lack real practice and the consequences of trying to alter the mind of another could be disastrous. I don't even know if a mind really _can_ change.

Dr Gilmore changed, or at least that's what I'm seeing in his memories. At first, the work he did on the others meant very little to him. He didn't ask where the subjects came from; they were just lumps of human clay, waiting to be moulded into something new. He told himself he was helping them. _After all, who_ _ **wouldn't**_ _want to be a superhuman?_

We were frozen when he found out the truth. He learned our names, read our histories; he saw the footage of our first disastrous bid for freedom. The way he remembers it, the realisation of what he had done hit him like a physical blow, like heartburn, like toothache. A cold, gnawing fear settled on him and there it remains, even after forty years.

That's the thing. He's afraid of us. Afraid of what he did to us. He's afraid that we'll want revenge on him for it all. Sometimes he just wants to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Some of the others would appreciate the gesture, but he doesn't know that. They understand better than he thinks they do. Probably, his nightmares would stop if he talked about them to the others more. I don't mean to see the nightmares, but, to put it in terms you'd understand, it's like trying not to listen to a person when they're screaming in your ear. He dreams of light and dark, locked doors, of faceless bodies and disembodied voices, always telling him the same 6 words. "You're going to do great things."

That's what his University Professor told him at the end of his first year. The exam results proclaimed Isaac Gilmore – at the time just a stuttering seventeen-year-old nobody in cheap clothes, only at university through the charity of others – as an unrivalled genius. He went from strength to strength, grasping even the most outlandish and complicated of theories with speed and ease. His final thesis left qualified scientists with decades of experience awestruck. It was no real surprise that Black Ghost pounced on him, really. They knew how to manipulate him like no-one else; feeding his natural curiosity as a scientist and his pride as a power-starved genius until he was begging at their feet to spearhead the Cyborg Soldier Initiative. And, scientifically at least, the project grew exponentially under his avid leadership. He lost himself in the project and didn't even realise that he had become an essential part in the creation of atrocities.

He doesn't try to justify himself to the team, though. He doesn't tell them about his past, or his intentions. He believes that trying to gain sympathy from any of them would somehow cheapen the suffering they have all already been through. When asked about his past, he makes a point of never revealing anything other than the most superficial of details.

"When were your born?"

"8th May 1929."

"Did you have any siblings?"

"None."

"Did your father fight in the War?"

"Yes."

I do often wonder if I should try and intervene more. I can feel Gilmore's fear and guilt as if they were my own. But, where do I even begin? Just telling him _**Talk to them, tell them what you want to say and let it out**_ wouldn't work. Hearing the right thing isn't the same as realising it. If I told him to, he wouldn't listen. It would just make him feel worse. It's not just him either; it's the same for all of them. I can feel a thousand little fears, pains and annoyances in each of them, all biting at once like individual flakes of snow in a blizzard. I can see each and every one of them, clear as day, and I know that if I really wanted to I could just use this power to fix them. But can it really be called "healing" if I'm forcing their minds to repair themselves? Would it be just as detrimental to the good parts if I fixed the bad parts? If I took away 002's anger at his parents and mistrust of others, would I also take away his determination and drive to succeed? If I soothed 003's homesickness, would I deaden her compassion and empathy? If I convinced 004 once and for all that he is still human, would he give in to fear? If 005 felt like he could go home again, would he stay with us all? If I told 006 that the rest of the team don't need to be mothered, would he still work as hard to help them? If I made 007 accept that it's ok to feel more alive here and now than ever before in his life, would he lose his connection to the past? If I took away 008's fear, would he still fight as hard to protect the others? If 009's past didn't still hurt him, would he try to fight to save his enemies from destruction? The more I look, the more I see just how every single thought, memory and feeling in a person's head is connected. Memories of home, however painful, allow people to want to make others feel safe and at home. The search for one's humanity gives strength to go on. A painful past gives one the ability to see one's enemies as more than just a danger.

It does hurt though, to see Dr Gilmore in this much pain. While his pain does drive him to keep going for us all, it isn't doing him any other good. He's been carrying this same guilt for twenty years, feeling it every day. It gave him the courage to orchestrate the escape plan, but it also wears him down a little more every day. One day, however far down the line, he will break. If he survives to see the end of Black Ghost, I don't know if he'll know what to do with himself. Whether as employers, tyrants, captors or pursuers, they have been a major part of his life for the longest time. They have shaped him just as he has shaped us. And, although he cant even admit it to himself, I know that the smallest of small parts of him misses the past too. Before he found out the truth, he was happy. He was doing what he loved with an unlimited budget and complete control of the work he was doing, so long as he kept producing more cyborgs. He created marvels and defied every known law of mechanics. He flourished under the encouragement and endorsement of the Black Ghost superiors and any previous doubts about his own worth were banished. If it wouldn't take him away from us and restore him as potentially our single greatest foe, I would just take the painful memories away for good and let him be as happy as he was back then. But, as with us all, his fear gives him strength, his guilt gives him determination and his pain gives him compassion. I have to believe that he'll be strong enough to endure when everything comes to an end.


End file.
